Maribe was unsure why she was chosen to carry the scepter of the Ice
Queen. She was not remarkably honorable or trustworthy as a Cavalier
would be. Hell, she could not even protect her sister from the
ravaging hands of a drunken soldier. She certainly was not the Druid
she wanted to be. For reasons, beyond her, her martial prowess belied
her inner desire. She sought to be peaceful and balanced with Nature
not destroy Nature's creatures wantonly with her staff. Maribe
sighed, perhaps this was her lesson. To let herself be herself. If
her blood is to boil in combat then maybe it is for her to learn to
let it be. Perhaps that is how Nature intends Maribe to be. Maybe
she is to be Nature's scythe culling the dead wheat and weeds. For
the creature's they have encountered certainly have not wished she and
her companions any good will.
As for her companions, Maribe has been studying them. There is this
Kobold who insists he is a Dragonborn. Whether through some trick of
his mind or a well played farce he seems to believe it himself. His
martial prowess is unparalleled. That guy never seems to miss a
trick. Then there is Drenla. Maribe is convinced she is in the
sauce. Drenla does not seem to know one end of wand from the other,
and although she dotters about, she does seem to get the job done. As
for the Dwarf, Maribe misses Thorian, and looks forward to his return.
She soon began to rely on his sturdiness. She felt safe in knowing
that in an attack he cold hold the attention of the enemy long enough
for her and Ithy to get into position. She also appreciated his
kindness for animals. As for Gaylord, he is also sturdy in his own
way, seeming to be able to aid the party just when needed.
Maribe also noticed some changes within herself, even without the
power of the Ice Queen she felt more resilient to the cold. [Add feat
Cold Adaptation - Remove Master of Arms*] The cold of this realm
permeates the bones creating a desire to not even move to just lie
down and sleep. Without the scepter and the potions she and her crew
would certainly perish. She shuddered with the cold and the
oppressive thought of what would happen to her realm should she fail
in her duty to deliver the scepter to the forge. Picking up the pace,
and signaling Ithy to range ahead, she set of into the snow.
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